Lone Witness

by Rachel Dylan

  He held tightly to her hand. “I know. All I can say to explain it is that we survived by the grace of God.”

  “He was watching out for us, Cooper. But it’s a reminder that life can change in the blink of an eye. And I don’t want to take you for granted.” She hesitated. “I know things are moving quickly, but my feelings for you are already so strong. You’ve been by my side through all these ups and downs, and you’ve taken the time to get to know me as a person. Embracing all sides of me, not just the good parts.”

  “I know. I feel the same way. Let’s just get through this battle, and then we can figure out what’s next for us. But I’m by your side, no matter what.”

  Now that she had found Cooper, she refused to let him go.

  Chapter

  Twenty-Four

  Tad’s palms were sweating. He’d heard the news that Sophie Dawson was the target of a car bomb in her church parking lot. His gut told him that Manuel Smith was behind this. He’d warned Whitney that Smith was dangerous, but now he needed to confront her and get an idea of where things stood so he’d know what his next move should be.

  Oddly, she’d invited him over to her place, which was a condo in a large high-rise in Buckhead. He’d had to get the doorman to let him in the building, then proceeded up to the penthouse level. When she’d called him, she seemed freaked out. He planned to get to the bottom of things.

  He rang the bell of her condo, and Whitney opened the door. It was the most casual he’d ever seen her dressed. No suit this evening, just a light pink blouse and khakis. “Come on in. Can I get you anything?”

  “Coffee would be great.”

  A few minutes later, they were seated in her large living room, which had a much too modern flair for him.

  “I assume you’re here because of the bombing,” Whitney said.

  “Yes. First things first, though.” This was very important. “Did you give Smith the heads-up like I told you to try to smooth things over?”

  “No. I know you suggested it, but I just wasn’t comfortable making that move.”

  “That means he found out through his own sources and decided to take action. Unless you had anything to do with the bombing?”

  She shook her head. “No, of course not. I thought I would be willing to take some drastic actions, but I’ll be honest, this has shaken me up. I never dreamt he would do something like this. Maybe try to scare her or something, but a bomb? And at a church! I don’t know about you, but I was raised here, and a church is one place you don’t mess with.” Her face reddened as she clutched her ivory coffee cup. “But I’m in so deep, I don’t know what I can do now.”

  “Listen, you’ve gotten in way over your head. It’s only a matter of time before this whole thing is exposed. Too many people have different pieces of the puzzle, and I bet they won’t quit until it’s all put together.” This was the cop in him talking. But he was right. “We’re not talking about some minor fudging of books here. You got in bed with the Sanchez Cartel.”

  Her head snapped up. “You don’t have to remind me of that fact. Believe me, it’s not something I’m ever going to forget.”

  “You need to make contact with Smith and try to make this right. Time is not on your side here. The longer you wait, the more at risk you are. He’s the only one who can offer you any kind of protection right now. It’s not the cops.”

  She rubbed her temples. “You’re pressuring me. I need to think.”

  “Who all knows about this?”

  “No one knows everything but me, and I guess we’ll never know how much Glen knew.”

  “I notice you’re not crying any tears for him.”

  “I’ve got bigger problems,” she said flatly.

  “Okay, besides you and Shelton, is there anyone else?” It was crucial he found that out.

  “I have a source inside the prosecutor’s office who knows something.”

  “A source you don’t want to name?”

  “No. It’s better you don’t know.”

  “Everyone is at risk here. Anyone who has touched this thing.”

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about. I need some time.”

  He rose from his seat. “The clock is ticking.”

  The next afternoon, Sophie made herself presentable and waited in the safe house kitchen, sitting at the large table, for a meeting with the Feds.

  She realized she should have probably brought them in sooner, but she’d wanted her case to continue. That had not only been selfish but potentially dangerous. I should’ve known better, she thought.

  But there was no use beating herself up now. She had to get everyone plugged in and present the case as she currently knew it. She grimaced as she took a deep breath. She refused to take the painkillers and was instead only taking the over-the-counter anti-inflammatories the doctor insisted she needed for the first week.

  Cooper joined her and gave her a reassuring kiss. “They’re almost here. You ready for this?”

  “Yes.” At least, she hoped she was.

  A few minutes later, she heard voices. A woman and a man entered the kitchen with Noah.

  The tall woman, her dark hair pulled up in a ponytail, stepped forward first. “I’m Special Agent Terri Nix with the FBI.”

  Sophie shook her hand and then turned her attention to the man.

  “And I’m Agent Jacob Rivera with the DEA.” His dark eyes met her own. He was built like a hulk. She’d hate to get on his bad side. At least he was one of the good guys.

  “Please, everyone take a seat,” Cooper said.

  “Why don’t we start at the beginning, Sophie,” Agent Nix said.

  “It’s a long story. I started working on a case against SIB Senior Manager Glen Shelton. As I’m sure you’re aware, he was overcharging his customers and pocketing the money. That in and of itself is enough to prosecute him.”

  “But Sophie started to get pushback from her boss,” Cooper said.

  “Yes, the DA, Keith Todd. He knows SIB’s CEO Whitney Bowman. Keith wanted me to strike a deal. Whitney also encouraged that, but she did turn over a ton of documents. We’re talking thousands and thousands of pages. I think she thought I would get lost in the sheer number and never find anything. But I started wading through them, and I found some strange deposits to Shelton’s personal accounts, all under ten grand. The further I dug, the more it seemed like there could be some money-laundering activity. Because there has to be some underlying criminal activity to entail money laundering, I enlisted Cooper and his security firm to help work on that piece.”

  Cooper nodded. “That’s when we started working the cartel angle, to see if there was any connection between Whitney Bowman and a criminal enterprise.”

  “And you found the personal connection between Bowman and Manuel Smith you told me about on the phone?” Agent Rivera asked.

  “Exactly,” Cooper said.

  It wasn’t so neatly tied up in a bow, though. That was Sophie’s issue. “Then Shelton committed suicide, or at least that’s still the word out of APD.”

  “We’re going to follow up on that too,” Agent Rivera said. “All of this information puts the Shelton suicide in a different context.”

  Sophie was glad they would be looking into it. “Thanks. It’s a loose end that’s really bothering me. Also, we don’t have any evidence to link Manuel Smith to the transactions. And we haven’t been able to trace the source of the deposit funds or what they did with the money once they withdrew it. That’s why I need your help. This has gone far beyond what I can do from my office as a Fulton County prosecutor.” She paused, hating to make the next statement. “And I don’t know whether our office has been compromised. From day one, Keith urged me to offer a deal and put this case to bed. He and Whitney are close. I’m not sure if there’s anything nefarious going on, but it’s enough to concern me.”

  “Let’s talk about the bombing,” Agent Nix said. “The bomb was planted in Cooper’s SUV, right?”

  “Yes,” Cooper
said. “I honestly don’t know if I was the target, Sophie, or both of us. I had been snooping around and asking a lot of questions about Smith and Bowman.”

  “APD doesn’t think Juan Wade was responsible. What do you think?” Agent Nix asked Sophie.

  “I don’t think it was him. I believe he was behind other things that happened to me, but this one doesn’t fit his MO. And it doesn’t make sense, after the mistrial.”

  Agent Nix nodded. “I agree.”

  “One more thing,” Sophie said. “There were a couple of other incidents that might not be tied to Wade at all.” She went on to explain everything else that had happened to her, including the hit-and-run.

  “Thanks for telling us that,” Agent Nix said. “It could be that Smith or those operating at his direction tried to derail your investigation, and when those initial efforts failed, he decided to step up his game. Rivera, what do you think?”

  “Manuel Smith is the top dog of the Sanchez Cartel in this area. Cooper, I know you were asking around about connections between Smith and Whitney, but I assume you and your guys kept it really vague and high-level?”

  “Very high-level. Just to see if there was any link between the two of them. We didn’t mention anything about the case or investigations or anything like that.”

  Agent Rivera turned and looked at Sophie. “Then we need the names of everyone who knew that you were investigating a possible money-laundering scheme at SIB.”

  “It’s a short list,” Sophie said. “In my office it was just me, Keith, and my rookie prosecutor, Monica Lacey.” She thought for a minute. “It’s also possible that Keith told another senior level prosecutor named Harrison Westgate.”

  The agents took down the names. “Anyone outside of those people and K&R Security?” Agent Rivera asked.

  “No,” she and Cooper said in unison.

  “We know Keith floated the discovery of the deposits to Bowman because she said it wasn’t that unusual an activity,” Cooper added.

  “Bowman could’ve tipped off Smith,” Agent Rivera said. “Then Smith could’ve decided to take matters into his own hands, and he’s smart enough to cover his tracks. Plus, he had a built-in cover story with Juan Wade. Smith couldn’t have asked for a better setup to keep his hands clean in this.”

  “Where does this leave us?” Sophie had to ask. She was trying to keep calm, but when she looked down, she realized her fists were clenched tightly by her sides.

  “I definitely think you need to stay put in the safe house,” Agent Nix said. “It’s way too risky for you to go back home right now. Since their effort failed, Smith will make another run at you. He has no idea that you’ve already brought in the Feds. And even if he did know, he’s the type of man to take revenge regardless of the circumstances.”

  “And what about Whitney Bowman?” she asked.

  “We’re going to reach out to her,” Agent Nix said.

  “You did the right thing by coming to us,” Agent Rivera said. “You don’t want to tangle with the cartels.”

  “I feel like it’s too late for that,” Sophie said softly.

  “You’re in a secure spot,” Agent Nix said. “Just lay low and let us handle things from here on out. Also, you should cut off all communication with everyone at your office. Use the bombing as a reason to take a leave of absence, and we’ll sort this all out.”

  “No communication at all? What if Keith calls?” Sophie asked.

  “Radio silence. Understood?” Agent Rivera gave her the stare down.

  “Yes.” As she spoke, pain hit her again. She glanced over at Cooper, trying her best to try to hide her discomfort.

  “Anything else you need Sophie for? I’m sure sitting isn’t very comfortable for her right now,” Cooper said.

  She let out a breath of thanks.

  “I think we’re good. We’ll start our investigation right away,” Agent Rivera said.

  Sophie prayed that the Feds could bring Smith down before it was too late.

  Wednesday night, Tad was starting to get nervous. He’d called Whitney multiple times, and she was ignoring his calls. He’d already visited the SIB building multiple times today, and her secretary said Whitney hadn’t come in. Which had been unexpected but not completely out of the ordinary, according to her secretary.

  He didn’t think Whitney had appreciated him being so blunt about her options. But once you started working with the cartels and they thought you could expose them, then all bets were off. He’d tried to give her the best chance possible by encouraging her to go directly to Smith to work it out. Hopefully, she’d come to her senses.

  Since he knew where she lived, he made his way back to her condo and convinced the same doorman to let him in the building. After he rang the bell a couple of times, Whitney opened the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she looked disheveled—her silk blouse was wrinkled and untucked, and her hair was unruly. This was not the CEO he’d become accustomed to.

  “You didn’t answer my calls or texts.” He walked by her and into the living room.

  She shut the door and followed him. “I’ve needed time to think. I feel like everything is about to come crashing down on me.” She sucked in a breath. “I think I’m going to leave the country. Figure out a plan once I’m gone. I don’t trust Manuel not to come after me. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about everything.”

  “And?” Her answer would mean a lot.

  “I’m going to turn over the evidence I have against Manuel to the authorities. Anonymously, of course. I was hoping I could actually enlist your help on that.”

  This was even worse than he had thought. “You want me to rat out Manuel Smith?”

  Whitney hands began to shake. “I need to get him off my back, and if he’s focused on the Feds and they’re focused on him, then I can just disappear. I’ll be off the grid. I’ve pulled serious cash, and I’m all packed.”

  She was completely serious about this. He would make one more attempt to talk her out of it, because he felt like it was the right thing to do. He walked over to her. “Whitney, you can’t outrun the cartel. If you walk out that door, you’re as good as dead.”

  A big tear rolled down her cheek. “Tad, I’m not stupid. I know I’m as good as dead no matter what. But at least this way I get a fighting chance.” She took a few steps back and turned to stare out the living room window. “If you’re not comfortable turning over the evidence, I can make other arrangements.”

  He took a deep breath. “Give me the evidence.”

  Whitney left the room and came back a minute later with an envelope. “There’s a USB drive in there with everything I have.”

  He took the envelope from her hands.

  “You’ll get that to the FBI, right?”

  “No. I won’t.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  He took a step toward her. “I know that you thought I was working for you, Whitney. But I actually report to Manuel Smith.”

  Bright red blotches crept up her thin neck and onto her face. “No, Tad. That can’t be right.”

  “That referral you got for me was all arranged by Smith and his people. He sent me here to keep an eye on you. He knew that he had exposure, but he wasn’t sure how much. Now I understand exactly how much.” He paused. “I tried to get you to go to him and come clean.”

  “He would’ve killed me regardless, though, wouldn’t he?”

  He didn’t want to lie to her. Not now. “Probably. But now I have no choice.”

  “You wouldn’t kill me.” She held her head up in defiance. “You’re not a killer. You used to be a cop.”

  “Shelton didn’t commit suicide.”

  Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. “You killed him.”

  “I’m in deep with Smith. If I let you go, I’ll be dead before the night’s over.” Smith had blackmailed him since back when he was still a cop. He’d made some stupid decisions, and now when the cartel called, he answered. Every single time. No matter what
they asked. His life depended on it.

  The color started to drain from her face, and her eyes darted across the room.

  “There’s nowhere for you to run, Whitney. Don’t fight me, and this will be a lot easier.” He wouldn’t get any joy from killing her.

  She screamed.

  He pulled out his gun, which was equipped with a silencer, and shot her squarely in the head. She dropped to the ground, the life instantly gone from her body.

  There had been no other option. He’d liked Whitney, but the choice had been between his life and hers. And that was an easy decision to make.

  He pulled out his phone and sent one simple text.

  It’s done.

  Cooper couldn’t believe the words he was hearing from his APD contact on the other end of the phone. He asked a few questions, most of which the officer couldn’t answer yet, and then hung up.

  He walked up the stairs to Sophie’s room, where he found her lying down, reading a book.

  She sat up. “What’s going on?”

  “I just got a phone call from the APD.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Whitney Bowman was found murdered in her condo.”

  “What?” Sophie nearly shouted before frowning in pain.

  “The details are sketchy, but there’s no doubt it was murder.”

  “How did she die?”

  “Gunshot wound to the head.”

  Sophie looked down. “I should’ve done something to stop this sooner. Things have gotten out of control. Shelton, the car bomb, and now Whitney’s murder. This is beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined.”

  He sat on the bed and carefully put an arm around her. “This isn’t your fault, Sophie. When you start doing business with the cartels, there are risks.”

  “But why would they kill Whitney?”

  “Maybe they think she ratted them out and made a deal? Or they started to see her as a liability or loose end? She was just another strategic move or play that had to be made. Their moral compass isn’t like yours or mine. They act completely out of self-interest and to make sure their business and power remain intact. All the normal rules are thrown out the window.”